Date: Tue, 6 Mar 2012 08:23:53 -0800
From: Oregon Bear
Subject: Tying Flies (beginnings camping)
Tying Flies
oregonbear9@gmail.com
This story contains graphic adult male to male gay sexual content. If this
offends you or it is illegal for you to read this, please leave this site.
I'd been casting at the top of the pool for about an hour, my line
sparkling a bit in the morning sun. I'd had a few bites, and one trout
leaped out of the water just about ten yards from me, making the morning
just about perfect.
The day had started just right, with me waking up in my tent at the
campsite next to the river, the eastern sky turning gold with the promise
of sunshine and a day of fly fishing on my favorite river. I soon had the
coffee brewing, and found myself shivering a bit in the morning chill,
sipping my first cup from my favorite camp mug by the bank of the river.
The hour of casting my line out into the river, and me wading
around a bit, finding just the right place to cast, had started to renew my
spirit, and the tightness in my shoulders and neck from the daily routine
of work, and commuting and living in the city had gone away.
Now, it was just me and the river, and the sunshine, and the
occasional pair of nesting geese that flew up and down the river, honking a
bit in their joy of the day. It was warming up enough that I'd be shedding
my thermal underwear top and flannel shirt, and I'd soon be stripped down
to just my shorts and waders for the afternoon fishing. This would be a
good week to get a good start on my summer tan.
It was coffee time again, and I waded back to the shore, leaning my
pole against a big pine tree, next to my camp site. As I fired up the camp
stove for another cup of coffee, I saw a guy headed my way. I'd had the
area to myself yesterday afternoon, as I drove into the campground, and I
was looking forward to a week of just fishing, and sipping a little of my
favorite Scotch and watching the stars over the wild river, all by myself.
He had his fly pole in his hand, and said a cheery hello through a
reddish blond beard that covered his jaw and chin. Several days of stubble
covered his neck and up onto his cheeks.
"Morning," he said. "Any luck?"
"No, not yet," I replied, "But any day fishing is a lucky day."
"You got that right?" he smiled. "I can't wait to take the first
cast. What a beautiful day."
We talked a bit, about what flies to use, and what kind of bugs
were hatching out on this fine spring day. The nights were still frosty,
so the usual spring hatches had just started getting underway.
I invited him to have a cup, and I added some more water in the
pot. He looked out over the river, checking out the drift and scouting a
good place to fish. He was a big guy, his thick, hard chest filling out
his flannel shirt. I could see a nice tuft of reddish blond hair pushing
out of the top of his shirt, and I took in the couple of days of stubble on
his neck and cheeks. The morning light would catch on the whiskers,
glinting in the soft light of this spring day. His beard was neatly
trimmed, but I could tell he was going for the full wild beard that a lot
of guys preferred when they had some time off.
We talked, as the water boiled and the coffee perked, about fishing
and the type of flies we were using. A pair of geese flew up the river and
we paused to take that in, reminding both of us why we were here.
Dave, as I came to know him, after the first mug of coffee, was
from the city, a numbers cruncher and manager. We laughed at not
introducing ourselves right away, being caught up in talking about fishing
and enjoying a mug of coffee and just being outside on a beautiful day. We
moved past our resumes pretty quickly, getting back to the subject at hand,
enjoying ourselves, just two fishermen on the riverbank, nursing some good
coffee and taking in the day, a day we had all to ourselves.
It was warming up pretty quickly, and we both shucked our heavy
flannel shirts as the sun brightened up the log we were sitting on, looking
over the river. The morning bite was over now, and Dave mentioned he'd
been wanting to take a walk up on the ridge, and follow a side stream up to
a waterfall he'd heard about.
That sounded like a good idea to me, and we soon packed a lunch and
tossed it into our day packs, and I grabbed my binoculars. We'd pretty
much decided we'd camp together, and Dave had walked back to his pickup and
drove back to my camp, where we changed into shorts and T shirts.
I got a good look at Dave's thick, muscular chest, matted with more
of his reddish blond hair, his fat nipples, and the thick forest of fur
that led down to his belt line. For a guy who held down a desk for a
living, he was in good shape. My cock stirred a bit, thinking of what more
I'd like to see of Dave, and what it might be like sucking on his cock, and
rubbing my beard through the pungent thatch of fur that covered his balls
and surrounded his hard, aching cock that would be slipping and sliding
through my lips and along my eager tongue.
I'd be wanting to plow his hard butt cheeks and hole with my cock,
too, later on in our dance in the fading evening light, the camp fire dying
down, turning to red hot coals, as we'd be moaning and panting, getting
ready to spill our seed across the thick fur of our sweaty bellies and
chests, or splattered across an eager tongue, a few wads of cum spurted
into a beard or across a hardened nipple.
We hadn't gotten on the subject of sex yet, or even if Dave was
interested in that sort of thing with a guy, but my cock was pretty excited
about the topic. I'd been without a man in my life for far too long to be
not thinking about getting laid as often as I could, especially if it was
with a good looking guy like Dave.
I wasn't sure if Dave liked men in the way I liked them, but I
caught him taking a look at my crotch and my ass, when he didn't think I
was looking I didn't see a wedding ring on his hand, and he hadn't
mentioned any family when we talked just a bit about what life was like
when we weren't being fishermen on a fine spring day.
It was enough that we were just enjoying the day, and we soon found
ourselves walking along the river and taking a trail up a creek that joined
the river, about a quarter of a mile upriver from our camp. Here, the
brush of the river bank gave way to a forest of thick pine, and a few
mountain spruce and aspen. The splashes and gurgles of the river gave way
to the quiet of the forest, broken every so often by the rat-a-tat-tat of a
woodpecker looking for a bug.
I was breaking into a sweat, so I stopped to slip off my T shirt,
and Dave did the same. His furry chest and armpits were wet now, and I
caught a good whiff of his sweat, mixed in with the smells of the pine and
the blooming shrubs that lined the creek we were following.
"You sure keep yourself in shape for a desk jockey," I said,
admiring Dave's shoulders and biceps, and the leanness of his belly. There
was a nice bulge in his hiking shorts, too, and I tried not to think what
pleasures lurked there, under the cloth and the nice little zipper that my
fingers were itching to tug down a bit.
In my mind, I felt the heat of his crotch and took in the slightly
rank smell of a man's sweat on a warm day in the forest, my own cock
swelling a bit at the thought of being with a man in a nearby opening in
the forest, where the sun and the drying pine needles would feel good on my
naked skin, as I took him deep into my hungry lips, his thick, wiry pubic
bush snagging in my moustache hairs. It would be just us, and maybe a blue
jay looking on, as we played around, doing what I like doing best.
"Well, I work out a lot," Dave said. "I'm pretty much of a gym
rat, and it's a good way to get rid of the stress of the office."
"You look like you're in good shape, too," he said, taking a good
eyeful of my chest and belly. "I bet you find it pretty easy to get some
action whenever you want, too."
We laughed, and I just nodded.
"Well, not for a while. The last guy I dated moved away about a
year ago and I've been single for a lot longer than I want to be," I said.
I really didn't care about whether or not people found out I was
gay or not. Long ago, I had gotten tired of not being able to be who I
really was, and if people didn't like the real me, well, so what. Life is
short and I want to just be happy, and playing that game of who you are and
who you like to sleep with, and not being honest about it, well, it's just
silly.
"Yeah, I know what that's like," Dave said, the humor gone from his
face, a bit of sadness creeping into his blue eyes.
I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I didn't. I just let it
drop, and become part of the quiet of the trail and the peace and the
beauty of this place. Dave was a lot like me, I thought, a guy who was
fully himself in a wild, peaceful place such as this, a place he could just
be himself.
Dave took the lead up the trail, his muscular back and shoulder
muscles flexing as we walked up the hill to where the falls were. Already,
we could hear the roar of the water. I was working up a thirst for some
cold mountain creek water, and a good splash of it on my face, the cold
water dripping through my beard into the fur of my sweaty chest.
In a few more minutes, the falls came into sight, running fast in
the melting of the winter snows higher up the ridge. The water sparkled in
the sunlight through the big pines, and the tamaracks which were just
starting to leaf out, their new greenish gold needles alive in the spring
sunshine. The sun felt hot on my shoulders, and a roll of sweat slid down
from my armpit, getting lost in the curls across my belly.
At the base of the falls, there was a clear pool, and a few large
flat rocks. I knew the water was cold, but a quick dip in the pool sounded
really good after our hour long hike up here. Sweat had pooled in my
armpits and in my crotch, and had matted the hair that splayed across my
chest. A quick dunk in the water was in order.
We climbed down to the flat rocks, and I started stripping off my
shorts and my hiking boots. I looked over to Dave and he was doing the
same, filling my eyes with his muscular, hairy butt cheeks and a nice set
of balls dangling between his legs.
"It'll be colder than cold, but I just can't resist," he said, as
he sat down on the rock and slid all the way into the pool of water.
His yelp filled the woods, as his head came back up above the
water, a torrent of cold pouring down his face into his beard and his bare
chest. He grabbed onto my foot, and slid my bare ass into the pool along
with him, my own yowl of pain and surprise also echoing off of the trees
and the rocks of this paradise.
Dave grabbed me around the chest and pulled me back out of the
water, holding me close to him, ice cold chest to ice cold chest.
"Isn't this something," he chuckled. "It's just great to feel
alive."
We laughed, and splashed each other, and both took another plunge
into the pool, soaking our heads again in the glacial chill of the pool.
My cock shrunk to nothing and my balls wanted to crawl inside of me, but
the water felt great against what had been my hot, sweaty skin, cooling me
off after our hike.
Crawling out onto the rock, we found a patch of sunlight and basked
in the strong sunlight and warmth of the noontime sun, my naked back and
butt soaking up the sun warmth from the rocks, the sun starting to dry off
my soaked beard and fur. Even my balls responded, coming out from hiding
and flopping down above my hole, against the hard muscles of my inner
thigh.
"Yes, indeed, good to feel alive today", I said.
"And, to be enjoy all this with someone just as crazy as me," Dave
added, his deep voice resonating in his thick chest, a few feet away from
me.
We lay there for a while, still partially in shock from our polar
bear plunge and the pleasure of the sun on our sun-starved bodies. I
soaked up the sounds of the water, and the distant call of a jay in the
forest.
"I'm wondering," Dave began, a stammer in his voice. "I'm
wondering if I could, ... could take care of you..."
"I mean, uh," Dave paused.
I looked over at him, his face red now, his breath a little short.
"You mean, like this?" I asked, my hand reaching over, cupping his
heavy balls, in his now loose ball sack, which dangled between his meaty
thighs, in the bright sunshine of the day. The feel of his large stones,
in their loose, hairy sack, stirred up a few things with me, blood rushing
to fill my own needy cock.
There was a nice nervous smell to his armpits, a bit of lust mixed
with drying creek water, and the heat of the day. I wanted to stick my
furry face into that thicket of tangled hair under his arms and take a good
whiff of my soon to be lover's stink.
"Or, like this? I asked, as I moved over to kiss him, our moustache
hairs snagging as I kissed his lips softly.
Dave kissed me back, a bit of surprise and happiness shining out of
his blue eyes. I felt his cheek stubble on my face, rough and prickly.
"Or, like this? I asked again, my hand now gripping his shaft,
feeling the blood rush hot under the thin skin and the edge of the mat of
hair that covered the root of his manhood, sparkling red and blond and wet
against his pale white skin. I jacked him a bit, his cock getting harder
in my fist.
"Oh, all of that," he laughed, as my lips moved down to nuzzle the
stubble on his neck, on my way to suck on the first fat nipple I could find
in the thicket of fur that covered his chest, listening to his breath
quicken with lust and need.
Soon, we were a tangle of fur and muscle, and sweaty skin, lips and
cocks and ball sacks tightening with pent up lust, as we explored each
other's hardening, salty flesh. Dave's lips slid down my tightening
foreskin, exposing the purple head of my cock, shiny with precum and Dave's
saliva.
I found his cock head and followed his lead, sliding my hungry lips
up and down his shaft, until we are both moaning and panting with lust, and
our imminent cumming. Dave pushed himself off my cock, his body tensing,
his hard cock sliding faster and faster against my lips and tongue. He
groaned, then shouted his lust, as the first spurt of his seed nearly
filling my mouth, then dripping down my beard. A second spurt shot across
my face, and a third sent a thick wad of his seed across one of my hard
nipples, as Dave's moans resonated in in his heaving, sweaty chest.
His meaty hand found my cock, and he jacked me hard and fast, his
thumb rubbing soft across the helmet head of my cock, until I lost control,
and shot several spurts of juice across the fur of his chest, a thick drop
hanging off the mat of curly hair.
My heart beats finally slowed, and I again could feel the warmth of
the rock, and the pools of sweat in my armpits and groin, my balls loose
now, falling in their sack against the warmth of my thigh, and Dave's warm
cupping hand. My lust eased a bit, now that I'd cum, the first time with a
lover, well, in too long of a time.
Dave slowly slid his hand the length of my cock, again, the last of
my cum forming a wad along his thumb. He brought it to my lips, wiping it
across my moustache and my tongue, his fingers softly caressing my bearded
jaw and chin.
I find his now flaccid cock, lying wet and spent across the fur of
his crotch, and bring another wad of cum, the seed of my lover, to his
furry lips, and watch him taste his own seed.
Dave grins at me, the smile of a man who's just made love, relaxed
now, bare naked on the flat rock underneath a waterfall, sharing life and
his cock with a lover, a man who is enjoying life, and all that he can
bring to it.
"Damn, you're good," Dave whispers, his grin splitting his beard,
the red and blond hair on his face shiny in the hot noonday sun.
"Well, you started it," I replied. "I just had to help you get
that project done."
We laughed, sharing the quiet of the place and the moment, and the
satisfaction of two lovers finding each other, being able to just be
ourselves, naked in so many ways.
Dave's fingers found their way across my chest, my armpits, through
my beard, and then down my belly, making himself at home with me, getting
to know me. He took his time, pushing my own curious hands away from him.
"My turn, buddy," he said. "I want to get to know you now. Just
relax and enjoy. When I'm done, you can do the same with me."
"Besides, if I'm going to be fishing in these waters, I need to do
some studying," he laughed.
"You're doing fine, got a good casting arm, and you're catching on
to the right kind of flies to use to deal with the big fish in the river,"
I said, his fingers now hot again on my cock.
I hardened a bit at his touch, feeling my lust rising again, my
nipples hardening in the slight breeze, and the thought of my lover again
having his way with me. Dave slowly danced his way across me then, taking
advantage of the "me time" he'd promised me. I didn't interfere, and just
let him take me, again, to the edge, again and again, until, for the second
time, I exploded. This time, it was deep inside his mouth, my thick bush
pushed tight against his beard and his hard jaw, his fingers fondling my
balls tight in their furry sack. His other hand gripped one of my aching
nipples, sending electricity back and forth to my groin, my brain only able
to know that I was cumming again, hard and deep, with my lover.
I gasped and sweated, my heart pounding again, Dave holding me
tight against his hard, furry chest, the last of my seed oozing down my
thigh.
"I think you've mastered the stream, Dave", I moaned. "You're
quite the fisherman."
"I still need some coaching," Dave replied, "And I think there's
another fish rising to the bite."
And, indeed there was. Dave's pole was hard again, throbbing with
every beat of his heart, wet with the first of his precum and some of the
seed he'd shot the first time.
I looked at him and grinned.
"Well, I better get fishing then."
We spent most of the afternoon there, taking another plunge into
the water, drying off, and making love. We talked a bit about our lives,
and our loves. I taught Dave some new casting techniques, and he showed me
some tricks of his own.
We headed down the trail then, both of us needing to get back into
the river, in time for the late afternoon bite. Soon, we were serious
fishermen, in our T shirts and waders, and vests. This time, Dave caught a
trout, and then another one, his shouts of glee rising high into the trees.
As the light faded, we returned to camp, setting our poles against
a big pine. Dave pulled a bottle of good Scotch out of his pickup, and we
sat on a log, with glasses of Scotch and a bit of the ice cold water we'd
plunged into and fished this glorious day.
That night, we'd zip our sleeping bags together, and look up at the
stars and the moon rising over the ridge, and listen to the coyotes in the
distance. We would dance again the dance we began at the pool underneath
the waterfall, becoming better fishermen in everything we did.
Oregon Bear 2012
Tying Flies
Tying Flies